Many years ago, a friend asked me to start a pony that was to eventually be ridden by her five-year-old daughter. The pony was a very sweet and smart six-year-old, eleven-hand gelding – as cute a pony as you could ever wish to own. My friend, Sharon, had worked with me for a few years, so I had every confidence that she would make sure Mickey had a very good life and became the perfect kid’s pony.
While the pony was at my place, Sharon brought her daughter (Emily) to visit with Mickey almost every day. Emmy wasn’t too interested in the training side of things, which I guess is to be expected of a five-year-old. But Emmy wanted to come every day so she could brush and feed Mickey. She just wanted to touch him, talk to him, and tell him how much she loved him. It made my heart very glad to watch Emmy brush Mickey’s legs with long, gentle strokes and listen to her tell him all about what she had been doing that day and how her younger sister got her into trouble when they played on the banks of the creek. By the time Emmy had got around to brushing Mickey’s tail, he was hearing about daddy’s new car, and the goat had given birth to twin babies. Even though the conversation was only one way, I’m sure Emmy believed Mickey was listening and had asked her all about the things she had to tell him.
When the brushing had been done to Emmy’s (and Mickey’s) complete satisfaction, it was time to feed him. Sharon had taught Emmy how to approach the pony with feed - where to stand and where not to stand. After dinner had been served up in Mickey’s very special bucket that Emmy had especially picked out for him, she removed herself a few metres away, tipped the bucket upside down to sit on it, and watched Mickey eat with the relish that is the hallmark of hungry ponies. Emmy sat and watched for ages and only occasionally took her attention away from Mickey to ask her mother a question or to pick a possie of cape weed flowers as a gift for me. It was like she had a job here to do. She watched vigilantly as Mickey ate. It was probably the most important thing anyone could have asked Emmy to do.
As I watched Emmy interact with her pony, it re-awakened the feelings that people have when they first learn to love horses. In Emmy’s innocence, her love and excitement for this short-legged, pot-bellied ball of hair was limitless and unconditional. Emmy didn’t love Mickey because he was going to win ribbons, or because he could leap big jumps, or because he was fast. She loved him just because he was hers, and he was kind and gentle to her.
In my role as a horsemanship teacher, I often see horses having trouble getting along with people. This causes the people to become pretty frustrated and ponder why they should keep forking out a lot of money on a horse that is frustrating them. How many times has it been said that there are plenty of good horses out there, so why waste money on a bad one? I understand this notion, even though it makes me bristle a little. But I can’t tell you how great it made me feel to see someone like Emmy loving her horse so much just because he was hers and she was responsible for him. I knew that Emmy would grow older and her interests would spread a little more thinly. Eventually, Emmy’s love and excitement about Mickey would change into something a little less altruistic and into something a little more selfish. We all do it.
Recently, a video appeared on my feed that showed some abusive treatment of a horse by a trainer. It reminded me how important it is that all of us retain a little bit of what Emmy and Mickey had. We should try to always remember why we fell in love with our horses. Those reasons should always be still there, even through the bad rides.
